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Weathers Analysis

Author: Poetry of Ben Doyle Type: Poetry Views: 336

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Boston Review2001It's freezing in the desert but there's nothing there to freeze.

The ground slides & swells. Where have you been buried?Under which dune did you say? In the morning winter leaves.

Hush I can hear the aphids aphony & almost a word in the wind.Time. Shovels. I'm late. I'm latent. I lost my list.

It was only "difference." Hailstone a lodestone on a leather lace.Is there a certain lack of polarity? Is it family? Here I am.

In the cold moon's blast zone on clean sand & up is the deep murk.Up licks my foreign shores. Tide of light. Hailstone beckoning

me to the brown ground. Something there, deep in the drift.It's a piece of snow. Where have you been buried oasis,

O trace H2O? Hush already I can see evening leaving.Atop this cactus the bees are hibernating. Hush they are dreaming

their communal dream, nothing. Sweet dreams. A storm took you here.Your hive of snakeskins & spiny things. Sweet dreams bees.

Every morning winter ferments. Agent my eyes. May the bulbof winter be planted deep enough not to burn may the blossom

return may the pollen swell & slide may the nectar mollify*There once was a hole in a stone.

Try as we might we could not see

to the other side. I put my

hand in the equator. It was

wet & quite warm. I placed my toe,

my leg, in the glazed equator.

My clothes listed from a brassy

hook in the wooden tie upright

in a stone. The air much cooler

now than the equator. My hips

slipped into the flat line of the

equator. You basking under

your tiara of succulents

on a stone, toying with a stone.

My red beard spread on the skin of

the equator. I drank of the

equator. The salt in that line.

I lowered my brain into the

planar equator. You began

to slide & swell above my sure

face, calcified, the equator.

I love you I hummed I can't swim*1) Take an orb, fallen into your habitat.

2) Slice an orb in two equal domes.

3) Take a leather line (a shoelace or such).

4) Place a line between two such equal domes.

5) Make an orb, product of your habitat.

6) Vice it by hand 'til it is compact & good.

7) Wake. The concussion of summer, searing the shadows.

8) Pace & watch for weather while the stone

9) slakes far beyond its molten core.

10) Chase the lodestar all (summer) day*Hush I think now I may

be the future:-me well & working

at the technology hut,you floating in a tall,

complimentary glassbeneath our domes

biogeodesic,springing & falling

the same thing,only difference, poolside-

our chair giving & low.


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